


tending wounds

by breadlad



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Can't get enough of them, I don't know what else to say, Johnny is tending dallas' wounds, M/M, Same old same old, Sex, Smut, but like in a sexy way, first time ? for John? implied? I suppose?, love the boys, when will I ever publish something meaningful, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:42:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24383749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breadlad/pseuds/breadlad
Summary: hi everyone!!! thank u for all the support on my last one, I present you another, I hope you enjoy :)please don't take my work without credit, its a bit of a dick move innitanyways ill see you at the end I give you kiss enjoy mwah(also its 1 am, excuse any typos or generally gross writing, I am so sorry)
Relationships: Johnny Cade & Dallas Winston, Johnny Cade/Dallas Winston
Comments: 6
Kudos: 82





	tending wounds

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone!!! thank u for all the support on my last one, I present you another, I hope you enjoy :) 
> 
> please don't take my work without credit, its a bit of a dick move innit 
> 
> anyways ill see you at the end I give you kiss enjoy mwah
> 
> (also its 1 am, excuse any typos or generally gross writing, I am so sorry)

Johnny felt his heart drop into his stomach as he approached Buck’s. He had made a whole day of getting there by foot, a somewhat difficult 6 mile journey that consisted of walking beside the highway, expecting to see an empty building on a peaceful Thursday night. Instead of this utopic vision, Johnny was greeted by a full house, the bar booming with music and people from inside. He almost turned around then, had he not reminded himself of his purpose as he walked up to the door.

Dallas has been gone for a week now. Nobody heard from him since the drive-in.

If he’s not here, then Darry’s gonna call the cops. Calling the cops on Dallas was absolutely the last resort. Johnny swore he would search every crevice of Tulsa before giving Darry the O.K. on that move. Dallas would never forgive him if the police were sent on his tail. Buck’s was the logical place to look, but understandably Johnny’s last choice. The place gave him the creeps, and Dallas didn’t like him coming ‘round too often because of the people that gathered there. But he left Johnny with no choice.

 _Should’ve just picked up the phone_ , Johnny thought, knocking loudly on the wooden door. He waited. He almost knocked again, but the door swung open.

An old, decrepit man, Buck himself, stared down at Johnny.

“Get the fuck outta here, kid,” He said, closing the door.

Johnny reached a hand in to stop him. “Could’ya get Dallas for me?”

“He ain’t here.” Buck grunted.

“Tell him it’s Johnny. Tell him Johnny needs to see him.”

Buck looked over his shoulder, sighing. “One second. Wait out here.”

“I’m almost 18.” Johnny piped up, but the door was closed on his face before Buck could hear him. In a few moments, the door swung open again, this time it was a taller, younger man who greeted him. It was Dallas.

Dallas frowned at him, brows knit on his forehead. He was shirtless, and his jeans hung low on his waist.

“I was sleepin’, goddamn it, what’dya want?” Dallas yawned. Johnny eyed him up and down, taking in all the newness of Dallas’ figure. Cuts and bruises stuck out all over his body.

“God _damn_ ,” Johnny murmured. Dallas’ wounds almost looked black in the red neon lights of Buck’s place.

Dallas rolled his eyes. “What the hell d’ya come around here for.” he asked, resting an arm on the doorframe, gaze firm on the boy.

“Dunno, you haven’t been coming ‘round much,” he replied, “ I see why.”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“Has anyone cleaned them yet?” Johnny asked. Dallas was silent.

“They look pretty fresh.” Johnny lifted a hand to Dallas’ cheek. Dallas quickly swatted it away, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. Johnny gave him a puzzled look.

5“Just. . . come on up. You’re blocking the entrance.” Dallas muttered, turning his back to the boy and trudging up the stairs. The muscles on his back looked unreal in the artificial light.

As soon as Johnny closed the door to Dallas’ room behind them, he had entered a whole other dimension. It was serene up here, the music faint, the only light coming in from the window. Dallas threw himself on the bed with a groan. Johnny went to collect supplies from the bathroom. He found 3 loose band-aids and a dirty gauze. With a frown, he came back into the room.

“Have you used this?” He asked Dallas, holding up the gauze.

Dallas was lying on the bed, eyes lightly closed. “No,” he said, not even bothering to look up at the object in question. Johnny threw it in the trash. Johnny grabbed a whiskey bottle from the top of his dresser and kneeled by the edge of the bed.

“Sit up, please,” he said. Dallas reluctantly positioned himself, sitting on the edge of the mattress, legs on both sides of Johnny.

“Can’t believe I’m cleaning a wound with whiskey and a band-aid,” he scowled, pouring some whiskey into his hand. The brown liquid was only a few shades darker than his own skin.

Dallas grinned.

“Pass me a cigarette?”

Johnny looked up at him, only now realizing the position he was in. his head was inches from Dallas’ navel. He could feel Dallas’ legs rubbing up on his sides. Dallas stared down at him, eyes hard. Johnny cleared his throat, grabbing a cigarette from behind his ear and handing it to Dallas, lighting it for him, all with one hand.

“You can taste the grease on this thing,” Dallas complained, tilting his head up to exhale the smoke. His Adam's apple bulged from his pale neck.

Johnny could hear his heart in his ears. He was never sure how he felt about Dallas, and it made him awfully nauseous to think about it for more than a minute. He was sure he thought of him as a friend, a handsome friend, but sometimes Dallas would touch him or look one way, for even a millisecond, and Johnny would feel his heart drop.

“Stop bitchin’,” Johnny croaked, slapping a handful of whiskey onto a gash on Dallas’ forearm.

Dallas seethed, gripping Johnny’s wrist tightly in his hand.

“Fuck,” he said, “don’t do that.”

“How else am I ‘pposed to clean it?” Johnny asked.

“I don’t know,” Dallas blurted, “Just… Just don’t do that no more, Jesus Christ.”

Johnny looked up at him, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Chicken.” he whispered.

Dallas eyed him up and down. “W’dya call me?”

Johnny blinked innocently. “Nothing.”

Dallas’ smile grew. “Could’ve sworn _Johnny Cade_ called _me_ a chicken.”

“Ain’t called you nothin’, Dal, you’re going crazy.”

“Am I?”

“Are you?”

Those fighting words seemed to stir something inside Dallas. All of a sudden he pulled Johnny onto his lap, hands under his shirt, tickling his sides. Johnny squirmed under his touch, every breath coming out a laugh. It was unbearable.

“Chicken?” Dallas teased, smiling at the effect he had on Johnny.

“Fuck… off…” Johnny breathed, hands gripping the hair at the back of Dallas’ head.

“Someone’s got a rude mouth tonight,” Dallas grinned, his hands slowing to a stop. He rested them peacefully on Johnny’s hips. Johnny panted, catching his breath, forehead resting against Dallas’.

Suddenly Johnny felt a poking sensation against his thigh.

“Dal,” he whispered, eyes wide, “are you--”

Dallas didn’t say anything, hands coming out from underneath his shirt. Before Dallas could throw him off his lap and out of Buck’s, Johnny connected their lips. It took Dallas a moment to realize what was happening, but when he did, he wasted no time.

Dallas pulled Johnny’s waist closer to him, in turn grinding him on his crotch. Johnny moaned into the kiss, hands gripping at Dallas even harder. Dallas’ tongue felt hot and large in his mouth, and tasted as though it had soaked in alcohol and cigarettes. When Johnny had pulled away for air, Dallas went to his neck, sucking softly at the tender skin. Johnny was so hot he could no longer feel his pulse, as if it was moving faster than he could detect. Dallas dragged his tongue along Johnny's collarbone, leaving a trail of warm saliva. As he pulled away, the spit turned cold.

Johnny let out a whine.

“Please. . .Dal. . .”

Dallas groaned, his hands eager to pull Johnny’s shirt over his head. He lay the boy down on his bed. Dallas planted kisses all over his torso, gradually moving down. As he made his way down, he brought a thumb to rub at Johnny’s nipple. Johnny could feel this thoughtless action in his knees and reflexively bucked his hips up with a moan. Dallas looked up at him, a small smile creeping on his lips. He brought the thumb over his nipple once again, this time working in circles, watching Johnny’s body contort with every move. When Dallas’ tongue dragged against it, Johnny felt as though he’d combust right then and there.

“Dal, I’m gonna. . .”

Dallas stopped. “Hold on for me, baby.”

He quickly sat up to unbuckle his jeans, pulling his pants and underwear down to his knees in one motion. He did the same for Johnny, who couldn’t bear to look down, but somehow knew he was already leaking. Dallas’ chuckle confirmed it. He ran a calloused thumb over his tip, and Johnny almost thanked a God he didn’t believe in.

“Put it in, Dal,” Johnny begged, breathless, “please.”

Dallas hesitated for a moment. “I don’t got lube.”

“I don’t care,” Johnny blurted, hands covering his face. He was sure he looked like a blubbering, desperate mess. Dallas swatted his hands away.

“Tell me if you want to stop, ‘kay?”

Johnny nodded swiftly.

Dallas spat into his hand, pumping it onto his dick. Dallas gripped Johnny’s thigh in his hand, pulling it out of the way. Johnny could feel his tip around his entrance and bit his lip. He could feel Dallas entering him, slow and careful as he could, but he couldn’t control the cry from escaping his swollen lips. Before Dallas could stop, Johnny grabbed his forearm, moving down to intertwine their fingers. Dallas pushed further into him, Johnny arching his back against the motion, eyes squeezed shut. He squeezed Dallas’ hand hard. Once Dallas was fully in, he began to thrust. It was a slow, manageable rhythm, and after a few seconds Johnny grew ambitious.

“Faster,” he breathed. Dallas thrust faster into him, a string of curses coming from his lips. Johnny eased his grip on Dallas’ hand, and moved his hips in time with him. Dallas worked faster, and Johnny could feel him brush against his prostate. A warmth bloomed in Johnny’s abdomen.

“Dal. . .”

Dallas worked faster, hand moving to Johnny’s hips, pushing him down against the motion of his cock. Brows furrowed in concentration, blush staining his cheeks, Dallas met his eyes. Johnny looked back at him, mouth parted, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he came on his own stomach. Dallas followed soon after, pace coming to a slow stop. Dallas lifted a warm hand from Johnny’s bony hip to brush Johnny’s hair from his face.

Dallas fell to his side, his hollow chest rising and falling with each breath, hand still locked in Johnny’s. The cool night air coming in from the window passed over their sweaty, bare bodies. Nothing was exchanged between them but the sound of their hitched breath. Dallas lazily grabbed for his shirt, balling it up, taking it over Johnny’s stomach and cleaning the cum off. Johnny breathed a thanks. Dallas nodded, head falling back onto his pillow in exhaust.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! missed writing about My Boys.. maybe I'll write something longer in the future. who knows. the possibilities are endless. also I haven't read the other one since I published it but I have gut feeling the two fanfics are the same exact thing so a[ologies if im just writing the same thing over again


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